


Cuddle With Me

by Ghuleh_Elf



Series: Bone Daddy Self Indulgence [3]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, No Smut, One Shot, Original Fiction, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft and cuddly Papa II, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, back massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghuleh_Elf/pseuds/Ghuleh_Elf
Summary: Sleepy morning cuddles with Papa II.





	Cuddle With Me

**Author's Note:**

> *Any possible similarities in this to existing works by other AO3 authors is strictly coincidental and not meant to take credit away from anyone, whatsoever, period. *

A feeling of serenity greets me upon awakening; sunlight is peeking in through the drapes of the window above the bed, spreading warmth across my body. I hear the singing of birds amongst the humming of passing cars, and this time, they're comforting sounds. I feel shifting from behind me, soon joined by a strained, tired grunt followed by a hand knocking into my back, fingers curling into my skin with realization. Sleepily, I glance over my shoulder to see Papa rubbing at his face with a hand; his other is curling languidly around my bare side.

 

When he drops his hand from his face and meets my gaze, a weak smile pulls at his lips, his eyes warming. He scoots closer among the tangle of sheets, his smile growing into a slight grin. I turn my head away and hide my face behind a hand; he chuckles and kisses me on the shoulder.

 

“Buongiorno amore mio,” he murmurs with a voice rough from sleep, his lips moving against my skin, “Avete dormito bene?”

 

I chuckle softly and move to lay on my back. He runs his soft hand down along my stomach as I get settled amongst the covers, with him leaning over me, a loving smile on his face. The way he's looking at me with tender eyes has my heart melting and makes my own smile grow.

 

“Oui,” I reply, teasing him, “Et tu?”

Papa laughs and grins, his crow's feet more pronounced now.

 

“Etiam,” he remarks, the Latin sharp on his tongue like a whip, “Etiam Ego dormivi”

 

Smiling, I search his handsome face as I reach up to cup his jaw, stroking my thumb across his cheek as I say in a softer tone, “Good.”

 

Lowering my gaze from his beautiful mismatched eyes, I admire his smiling lips, the lines of age decorating his face, and then his lips under his thin moustache. It's just too tempting. With my smile becoming a grin, I begin gently running my fingertips over it, relishing in how soft it is.

 

Again, Papa laughs in a low chuckle. He grasps my hand in his and turns his head to press a firm kiss to my knuckles then kisses me twice more on my palm and wrist, his eyes closed, and then looks at me while threading his fingers through mine. He shifts closer, just enough for our bodies to align, bare skin against bare skin. It makes the feeling of contentment intensifying inside of me - and has my heart racing. He searches my face, smiling, and leans in to kiss me on the forehead before he rests his forehead on mine.

 

“Before you get any ideas,” I say quietly, flustered by the kiss and practically everything else he's been doing, “I have to pee.”

 

At that, Papa pulls back and looks at me with an amused expression. He nods and lets my hand go, before reaching down to pat me thrice on the thigh.

 

“Get to it, then. We have a lot of cuddling to do,” he says, his Italian accent made thicker due to just recently rejoining the land of the living. I grin at him and nod. Propping up on an elbow, I raise myself just enough to kiss him sweetly on the cheek. He grins and pinches me on my side, which makes me jerk and wiggle out from underneath him to escape; he laughs as he lets me go. I become aware of the fact I'm quite naked as I pace towards the door, and I can feel his eyes trailing after me as I go.

 

 

 

After taking a couple minutes to wash my face and brush my teeth, ridding myself of the discomfort that had built over the night, I eventually return to the bedroom to find Papa laying on his front, with his arms under a pillow, cheek propped against it with his eyes closed. It’s… quite endearing. I'm thankful I get to witness this scene in its entirety. I smile broadly as I approach the bed to climb on. His eyes blearily open to fix on me, though they close again. While pulling the sheets up over my lower half, I move to kneel beside him placing my hands on the bed for stability, leaning in to press my lips in slow, gentle kisses over his shoulder blades. He shifts slightly, releasing a soft noise of acknowledgment, though grows still again.

 

Peeking up at his face, I see him smiling with closed eyes. Invigorated, I move to kneel over his waist, placing my hands gently on his back and sit on his. He laughs and glances back at me with a furrowed brow and an amused grin. I say nothing; I just smirk and begin stroking my hands up over his bare back and across skin warmed by the sun. Papa relaxes back against the pillow and closes his eyes. I run my hands down over his sides, enjoying the sensation of his skin under my touch. He moves his arms out from under the pillow to rest them comfortably against his sides. His fingers curl up, relaxed, and I'm tempted to touch them, too.

 

Again, my hands ascend slowly to stroke over his back then up over his biceps. With a drift of my fingers, I move my hands to the center of his back, where I splay my fingers out across the muscle of his back, my thumbs along the column of his spine. I begin to gently dig them in to begin massaging the muscle, working my way up his spine to reach his shoulder blades. Papa hums with pleasure.

 

For the next five minutes, I busy myself with kneading his shoulders, his shoulder blades, the muscle of his neck, his lower back, the tense muscle around his spine. Throughout it, Papa expresses his enjoyment with slight noises or grunts of pain/pleasure, which has me grinning. Only when my hands get stiff and your arms ache do you stop. I tuck my hands between his arms and his sides, placing them against the bed, to lean in and kiss him on both shoulder blades and then the back of his head. Papa chuckles sleepily and lazily moves to roll over. I get off him and kneel beside him, drawing the covers over my lower half for modesty and comfort sake.

 

“I feel like goo now,” Papa mumbles, smiling warmly at me with an adorable drowsiness in his eyes. Considering his age and his usual grumpy countenance, I'm not sure I should think of him in that way, but there’s really no other way to describe it. I grin, heart completely full, with laughter bubbling up inside me.

 

“That was my plan all along. To reduce you to goo,” I say, past my light laughter. Papa’s smile becomes a subtle grin that reveals a sliver of teeth. He scoots closer towards me under the sheets and reaches out to wind his arms around my waist; I feel his hands splay over the small of my back, his hands are sinfully soft from the constant wearing of his leather gloves. He leans in to kiss me on my abdomen and then rests his head upon my folded legs, his eyes closing.

 

He says nothing else, so I reach down to begin gently stroking his head. Contentment swells inside of me, gazing down at his face; I admire his closed eyes, his faintly smiling lips, his crow’s feet, the prominent laugh lines. I feel the intense love I have for him burning in my core. I wish I could somehow convey just how much I love him. It overwhelms me sometimes. It’s such an intense feeling, an adoration I have no control over. I just smile, watching his handsome face as I rub my hand gently over his head, until he suddenly unravels his arms from around me to roll onto his back.

 

Rubbing at his eyes with a hand, he then drops it down against my knees and looks at me with a weak smile.

 

“Come closer, mi amato,” he says lowly, his green and pale ice eyes soft and beckoning. I pause, and then oblige. With warmth crawling up into my face, I shift closer, until my knees meet his side. Papa smiles and lifts a hand to curl his index finger.

 

“Più vicino,” he states, with a smirk. I arch a brow. Setting my hands down on the bed, I lean in towards him and whisper with a teasing smile, “Sono più vicino, caro mio.”

 

“Non abbastanza,” he remarks, grinning now. I press my lips together, failing to stifle my smile completely. I roll my eyes, earning a laugh from Papa, and lean in over him further, until my hair hangs down towards him then look down at him pointedly, arching a brow with challenge. Papa’s broad smile brings out his crow’s feet and accentuates the lines of age on his face, his dual colored eyes amused. He reaches up to cup my cheek with a hand, fingers splaying out into my hair. It has my heart stopping as I feel my face begin to burn. He looks up at me with a softer smile, his eyes loving.

 

Raising up onto an elbow, Papa leans in towards me and angles his head to kiss me, slowly. With warm cheeks and lidded eyes, I watch his face as he purses his lips tenderly against mine. Seeing his eyes closed, eyelashes against his cheeks, crow’s feet ever present, warms my heart. I repress a smile as I close my eyes. Raising a hand, I cup it around his neck and return the chaste kiss with a gentle purse of my mouth against his. His lips are perfectly soft and warm, making me melt.

 

Ideas of something more surface in my mind. I become hyper aware of his other hand, which has risen to rest over my side, his fingers curled lightly against my skin. He kisses me with a few more gentle presses of his lips before pulling back to look at me with a smile, his eyes glowing and kind. I feel myself blush slightly.

 

“Sei carino,” Papa murmurs with a growing grin, his crow’s feet intensifying. I squint at him and say slightly chagrined, “Shut up.”

 

That has him laughing aloud with a broad smile, which I gladly return with flustered appreciation. Then he reaches for me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me down to lay me beside him and in his arms. I anticipated more cuddling, but instead Papa curls his fingers under my chin and tips my head back. I look up at him to see intimate desire in his eyes then glance down to his lips as he begins to lean in again.

 

This time, when he kisses me, it’s with desire. His touch moves from my chin to cradling the back of my head with a gentle yet firm hand; he keeps me still in his hold while he kisses me. I rest my hand against his chest and let him lead the kiss. It delves into something intense and heavy; I can barely keep up. He kiss is filled with hunger, an overlapping of his lips that I try to match. He seldom expresses such lust in this way; our mouths mash together without much grace and it has my thoughts reducing to static and my body is starting to burn with my arousal. The intimate noise of our mouths moving together only serves to fluster me further.

 

With a dip of his tongue, he begins to taste my lips. I moan softly against his mouth and let him in mine. He intensifies the kiss, his tongue quickly dominating mine and it's incredibly arousing. My body is on fire, quickly becoming overwhelmed, and breathless. I pull away to catch my breath, leaning forward to press your face to his shoulder, panting. He strokes his hand down over the back of my neck and says lowly with a smile in his voice, his accent thick, “I tasted mint. Anticipated this, did you?”

 

“Maybe,” I say, while drawing my arm around his side. I shift closer to him under the covers, to feel his naked, warm skin against mine.“I can’t believe you just did that to me.” 

 

Papa laughs, tightening his arms around me. He tangles his legs with mine and it flusters me further. He idly strokes his fingers back and forth along my back. When he kisses my head, I smile and nuzzle closer to him.

 

“I’ll make sure to do it again later,” he muses, voice lowered and teasing. I reach down to pinch his slight and cute tummy rolls between my curled forefinger and a thumb; he jerks back and looks at me with shock. Sternly, I stare at him with an arched eyebrow, challenging him. He begins laughing as he slaps lightly at my hand, while he pleads amongst his laughter, “Misericordia, amato!”

 

Relenting, I let him go, grinning now, barely withholding my own laughter. He whines jokingly, rubbing at his wounded stomach.

 

“I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Papa shoots back at me, followed by an amused grin that bears his crow’s feet. I can’t hold back now and burst out laughing.


End file.
